When we first got here, the house was clean, dinner was made every night and it was not an issue. Since I started working, I’ve been slacking a bit. I shouldn’t. It’s not like I’m incapable, and since I’m not working full time, I feel as though it’s my duty to get these things completed. I do expect help, but I am going to have 5 days off soon. That happens often. So why is it so hard for me to get motivated to clean?

Let me clarify that our house isn’t DIRTY. It’s cluttered, and much like the hubby this annoys me. There’s no reason for that. Everything has a place, and with this new house, it’s not like we’re lacking for space to put things. We have these friends, and went over to their house for dinner the other night. Their house always seems to be clean. Like damn near perfect kind of clean. After supper R and I joined forces and cleaned up the kitchen while the boys chit-chatted at the table and little J was putting pajamas on. In that moment, I had a sort of awakening. Their house is always clean because this happens every day. The constant act of picking up and putting away, scrubbing and drying, loading and unloading, sweeping up the mess and putting it in the trash.

It has to be a learned action. I would greatly enjoy to bring that to the table. Except right now, our table has clutter that would suggest we’re hoarders. Okay so that’s not our kitchen table, and not our house. Our house isn’t that cluttered nor do I ever wish for it to be, but that’s how it feels. It’s mostly just mail, the hubby’s homework, and a few things that haven’t been put up from the move yet. The thing is though, that’s pretty much how I grew up. The house would get so cluttered with everyone’s stuff, their backpacks, coats, purses, homework, mail, etc, until someone got pissed off and there was a fight about not being able to find something and then we’d all power clean. The house would stay clean for about a week until it went back to the same clutter accumulation, and we’d start the cycle all over again. All I can say is at least our house wasn’t dirty and growing mold. There’s a difference between “Our house is a mess” and “Our house is dirty.”

It can’t be that hard though. They say it takes a week to learn a habit and 3 weeks to break it. Is it that or am I just not the wifey I thought I was? I’d like to think I’m a good wifey and that we, not just I, need to learn to declutter every time we come home. I’ve gotten pretty good about putting my purse up when I get home from wherever, as opposed to leaving it lie on the kitchen table.

On top of which, we discovered yesterday that both of us were out of money until Friday, and coincidentally out of cigarettes. Perhaps this behavior can be learned while I attempt to quit smoking so I don’t eat everything in the house to satisfy my hand-to-mouth action I get with smoking.

Hopefully, starting today, I can get my little butt in gear and start making a change we can actually see around here instead of inviting people into my house and saying “sorry our house is a mess.”

Though really, it can’t be that hard right? If I do it, the hubby is sure to follow suit right?

That seems to be a regular comment for me, but a few comments have made me wonder. Just today, a grandmother came in looking for an outfit for her twin granddaughters that were turning 14. I suggested a few things; some graphic t-shirts, some new shorts, a graphic hoodie, or a couple of tank tops that were buy one get one half off. She looked at me and gave me a simple “Girls wear things like that? Ladies shouldn’t wear jeans and t-shirts. I was hoping to get something more along the lines of a blouse or a skirt.” She then gave me a once-over and said “Oh, I see,” and left it at that. Today I am wearing some jeans I bought at the store, a bright yellow layering tank top, and a heather gray t-shirt to go over it. Apparently that’s not what “ladies” wear.

Does it make me any less of a woman that I’m wearing jeans a t-shirt? Does it make me less of a lady? I know I’m not the most well behaved, my posture isn’t perfect, and my colorful vocabulary leaves something to be desired for some people, particularly my father, sorry Daddy. Why exactly does that mean I can’t be considered a lady, though? Why does that mean that I can’t be treated with the same respect that lady demanded? We can’t all be raised in money, with expensive clothes, and have someone standing over us making sure the book on our head stays straight.

I always joke whenever I belch that that’s why my husband married me. Again, it’s an unladylike behavior, but my husband doesn’t view me as any less of a woman because of it. Though at the same time I feel like I am trying to justify my actions. I probably could act a little more feminine, but that’s never been me. I’ve never been the type to have an air about me that suggest that I’m anything I’m not.

Conversely, I also helped a woman looking for an ensemble for her daughter. She asked what I liked and what I thought was cute. I showed her a few outfits and she laughed at me in a “you’re such a silly girl” kind of way. She then told me that her daughter is more into clothes that were form fitting (at the time I was wearing some fitted jeans, a tank top, a sweater…all purchased from that store) and layered. I smiled and said that the outfit I was currently wearing was layered. She giggled again and then said “well, but my daughter is 24.” I laughed and said “I’m 25. We just have different styles is all, but I can help you find something for her.” I picked out a few other items, after which she decided that I wasn’t the best option to help her find an outfit for her daughter who was less than a year younger than because in her words I dress too old for my age and I need to think about redoing my wardrobe all together.

I understand that different people have different ideas about style, but how do I attract two very different types of…lack of a better word…attacks? How is it that just because I don’t wear a skirt and blouse every day I’m not a lady, but since I don’t wear tight clothing, reveal my midriff, and wear a low cut shirt I dress too old for my age? Why do I need to adhere to a certain set of rules of dressing myself to be perceived as a woman?

I quite like my casual, girly style, and it irritates the shit out of me that that there is such a pressure on women to fit a certain stereotype. It sucks to admit it, but even though we’ve come far as a society, there still is a pressure on women to look and act a certain way or we won’t be accepted by the rest of our peers. I won’t apologize for not dressing a certain way because that’s not who I am. I don’t need to dress in revealing clothes to have confidence and I don’t need to wear something skin tight to get people to look at me. I think I’m pretty. I have confidence, and that’s enough.

I suppose I’m worked up about it because the pressure that mainstream media has put on us pisses me off. We feed images to little girls and sell clothes to them to make them look older than they are. We rarely allow our kids to find their own style, but instead dress them the way we see fit. I’m guilty, to an extent, of this, or at least of dreaming this. Of having a little girl and putting her in pretty dress, cute t-shirts, and adorable skirts, but I have enough sense that if my (future) daughter were to tell me she didn’t like it, I would help her find her style.

Your style is just that, YOUR style and it is, in essence, part of your identity. You shouldn’t have to go from one end of the crazy spectrum to the other. I like to think I’m in the comfortable middle somewhere. I can look like a girly-girl when need be, but I do have my moments when I want to wear something a little sexy. Maybe my wardrobe does suck, but it wasn’t until recently that anyone has said “You need to redo your wardrobe”. The thing is, not much has changed about my style since we moved here other than finding things that weren’t quite as heavy.

I’m beyond baffled. I say, find your own style. Don’t adhere to a certain image to tell you how to dress. Don’t be a cookie cutter Barbie, and don’t be a lady if that’s not you. Me? I’m gonna go bang my head against a wall a few times and try to understand these women.

Okay, so I’m not 100% sure why this is getting on my nerves SO DAMN MUCH but seriously, the madness needs to stop.

I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I have signed someone up for a rewards card that didn’t know what a mailing address was. These people are usually born after 1992. The conversation that I got into today went as follows:

Me: what’s your mailing address?
customer: oh it’s (she starts to give me her e-mail address)
Me: No. you’re mailing address
customer: (she smiles and gives me a look like I’m stupid) yeah it’s (proceeds to rattle off her e-mail address)
Me: You’re misunderstanding me. Where do you get your mail
customer: I just told you
Me: You gave me your e-mail address. I need your mailing address
customer: I guess I don’t understand what you want.
Me: your MAILING address. Where do you live?
customer: oh! here in Charleston
Me: Great. Where do you receive mail? Is it a PO box or a street address?
customer: (gives me a confused look) at (gives me e-mail address again)
Me: (frustrated) No. what street do you live on?
customer: (long pause) uh….
me: What street is your house on?
customer: Oh! (rattles of street name)
Me: What’s the number?
customer: (gives me phone number)
me: (I take a deep breath) The number on your house. (she tells me) okay, what’s your zip code? (customer rattles off area code) no, your zip code. (rattles off area code again) No your zip code? Mine for instance is ____. The one for this area is ____. so what is your zip code. (she gives me a blank stare for a moment, then slowly starts to give me her zip code as if she’s unsure if she’s giving me the correct one)

Now, not every situation is THAT bad, but that is the third one I’ve encountered since I started working here. Just today, this happened to me 7 times. Seven times I had to prompt someone to give me a mailing address and not an e-mail address. If you asked me how many times this happens to me a week, I couldn’t give you a number. It angers me to the point that I want to shake these kids and ask them how the hell they don’t know what a mailing address is. I mean seriously, this can’t be the parent’s fault. This all goes back to the technology thing. What ever happened to personal letters? I still get mail. I still send mail. I still have a magazine subscription.

HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!?!? SERIOUSLY! This girl that this particular conversation happened with was born in 1993. That means she is nearing 20. How in God’s name can you be almost 20 and not know where the fuck you live? To me this means she 1. doesn’t have any bills, 2. still lives with her parents, 3. has never received a card, invitation, magazine, or junk mail, or 4. when she was in grade school she was never taught how to address an envelope. It could be a combination of a few, it could be all of them, or it could just simply be that she was never taught how to address something.

But still, how do you go 20 years and not learn something like that? This was something I was taught in 1st grade. There is no appreciation for a hand written anything anymore. I don’t even care if it’s typed. Put it in an envelope, fill it out and send it! Did these kids never do pen pals in grade school? I can’t even wrap my brain around this right now. Even if these kids grew up in the technology era, I still don’t know how they can not know how to give someone a mailing address. I am so outraged right now.

If they don’t know what a mailing address is, how do they know how to get anywhere? What would they do if an emergency happened, they called 911 and couldn’t give the operator their home address? How do you go 20 years and not send a single bill, package, card, or letter? Did the internet ruin everything for the younger generation? Will this all eventually blow over, or are we facing a situation that will eventually lead to millions of people being out of jobs. I don’t know about you, but I like getting my magazines and I’d rather not read my magazine from a device that needs to be plugged in, in order to read it. I like turning on my lamp and sitting on the couch with the open magazine resting on my knee and my fingers working quickly as I crochet. The one time I tried to read a pattern from my phone, I had to stop every 15 seconds to bring my phone back to life. It was a pain in the ass. And if you remember correctly, I hate the Kindle and all that it stands for, so that won’t be happening any time soon.

I am completely beside myself right now with disgust. It’s not that big of a thing and I’m aware of that, but if you keep up with my rantings, you’ll understand why I’m in such an uproar about such a small situation.

If you’re a teenager and you don’t know what a mailing address is refer to the image below and learn how to address a fucking envelope

If you don’t know you’re address, go outside, walk to the street corner, figure out what street your on, check out the number on your house and put two and two together.

If you’re a parent and you haven’t taught your child what their mailing address is and he/she is old enough to know and be able to write it down, be ashamed of yourself and your school system, then teach them.

Me? I’m going to turn down my anger level to a simmer instead of a boil and go have a beer…

In the mean time, if you don’t know your address or how to fill out an envelope, you’re an idiot.